


Let Me Go on Loving You

by reddiebitch



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, Established Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, the toziers are good parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:54:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28463424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddiebitch/pseuds/reddiebitch
Summary: In which Eddie stays in the hospital for two days and Richie has to deal with the thought of being alone for the first time in his life.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	Let Me Go on Loving You

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [@kaspbrak-eddie](http://www.kaspbrak-eddie.tumblr.com)

**[October 13, 2018 | 7:02AM]**

The worst day of Richie Tozier’s life started as unassuming as any other relatively boring day of his adult life had started. He woke up around seven, the early morning sunlight coming in through the window, the blinds casting striped shadows across his bed. He sighed as he rolled over, rubbing his eyes and squinting at his boyfriend, who was still sleeping soundly next to him. He smiled as he stared. He couldn’t quite see Eddie’s freckles or his long, dark eyelashes without the aid of his glasses, but he could just make out Eddie’s button nose, his soft, pink lips, his hair sticking out in every direction, spread out on his white pillowcase, the strands almost gold in the warm morning sunlight. Richie sat up slowly in bed, trying to tame his wild curls. He reached to his left and patted around on his nightstand until he found his glasses and shoved them clumsily on his face, blinking as his eyes adjusted to being open. He looked once more at Eddie before he stood up, and he leaned in to place a soft kiss on Eddie’s forehead, careful not to wake him. He got ready for work quietly, so as to not rouse the beast that was Eddie before coffee and his morning shower. Richie had to be at work at 8:00 sharp and Eddie not until 9:30, so Richie’s mornings were always filled with silent dressing and regarding his sleeping boyfriend, curled up tight under the covers. 

After he was dressed, he pulled his shoes on and headed out to their kitchen to put a pot of coffee on. As he waited for it to brew, he went into the bathroom to put his contacts in and brush his teeth, then absentmindedly scrolled through the news on his phone while he munched on an Eggo waffle. When the coffee was ready he poured himself some into his almost comically enormous forty-ounce travel mug and poured Eddie a cup as well, putting his in the fridge. This was Richie’s morning routine: Eddie hated hot coffee, so Richie made it fresh every morning; he drank half himself and put the other half in the fridge to chill for Eddie, always ready when he woke up. He grabbed a sticky note from the kitchen table and grinned to himself as he wrote in big, messy letters, “Love u, have a terrible day at work ;)” and stuck it to the side of the mug before he placed it in the fridge. He took an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter, tossed it low in the air before catching it again, and slung his work bag over his shoulder. He left the house that morning and got to work on time to a pretty boring day at the studio. Richie was a sound engineer; while he normally had sessions to monitor every morning before he spent the afternoon editing, he had none scheduled that day. So, he spent eight hours lost to the world in his small office, his headphones blocking out any sounds as he painstakingly mixed music all day. 

At lunch, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to find a text from Eddie, it was a photo of the note Richie had left along with the message, “Thanks, I hope your day is equally as terrible. :)”

He beamed as he wrote back, “What do you want to do for dinner tonight?”

Since they both took lunch at around the same time, the typing bubble popped up within a few seconds, and Eddie sent back, “Idk. Wanna just pick up takeout from that Chinese place by you? It’s been a while and I need that lo mein in my life.”

Richie replied, “Sure,” completely unaware that it would be the last time he would talk to Eddie for a while.

**[August 22, 1998| 8:09AM]**

As his mom would tell it, there were very few times in Richie Tozier’s life when she’d seen him as excited as he was the day he’d met Eddie Kaspbrak. Those times had been the day Eddie had agreed to be Richie’s boyfriend, the day they’d gone to their senior prom together, and the day Star Wars Episode III came out in theaters. Those were all days she loved remembering, but her favorite story to tell at family gatherings--or any time an opportunity came up to embarrass her son--was the day that he met Eddie.

Richie’s first day of kindergarten was something the whole family had been looking forward to--Maggie was ready for some time to relax during the day, Went was excited for Richie to make some friends and hopefully burn off some of his seemingly never-ending energy, and Richie was excited to finally learn about spaceships. Not part of the curriculum, but Richie had a habit of being somewhat clingy to his mother, so Maggie and Went had been spending the summer getting Richie excited about all the things he might get to learn in school--space obviously being the most alluring topic. 

So, when the day finally came, all three of the Toziers were jittery as they pulled into the parking lot of the elementary school. They found a spot in the large circle drive, and after they were in park, both Maggie and Wentworth had turned to face Richie in the backseat, who was beaming. “You ready, kiddo?” Went asked, his voice low and even. 

Richie nodded, pointing at the shirt he’d put on that morning. “Got my rocketship shirt on and everything.” Maggie chuckled in response, reaching back to unbuckle him from his booster seat. They walked Richie up to the front door where he was greeted by the principal and a few other members of school leadership. Richie quickly turned and waved to his parents, parting with much more ease than they had expected. “Bye guys, see you after school!” He said eagerly, raising his eyebrows and flashing one last smile before he followed one of the adults into the building. 

Richie was ushered to his classroom and the door opened to reveal about fifteen other kids his age either sitting on the floor playing with toys or unpacking their backpacks at the side of the room. His new teacher came up to greet them at the door and showed him to the area where he was meant to unpack his backpack. She pointed out a cubby for his belongings and a place to hang his bag. As he started unzipping his backpack to get his lunchbox out, a quiet voice sounded out next to him. 

“I like your rocket shirt, I have one like it at home,” the boy said, looking over at him shyly. 

Richie smiled, “Thanks! My parents said we might get to learn about them in school, which I’m really excited about. I know a little bit about rockets already, my parents let me watch space movies all the time. Like _Apollo 13_ and also _Apollo 11_ and _The Right Stuff_. So I know about astronauts and stuff and how they eat weird space food like crackers and applesauce and toothpaste I think…” Richie trailed off, looking back over at the boy whose expression was a mix between bewilderment and annoyance. 

“You talk a lot. Also, I don’t think _anyone_ eats toothpaste. You can’t eat it. So that’s stupid,” the boy said. He sighed. “I’m Eddie.”

***

At the end of the day, Richie clambered into the backseat of his mom’s car, throwing his too-big backpack in the seat next to him. His little voice piped up from the backseat, “Mama, I met a boy today. I think he hates me, but I’ve decided we’re gonna be best friends, so he’s gonna have to get over it.”

Maggie laughed. “Well, Rich. I guess that’s that.”

“Mhm. We’re gonna be friends _forever_ , mom. Just wait and see.”

**[October 13, 2018 | 7:31PM]**

Richie burst through the front door to his shared apartment, yelling in a sing-song tone, “Honey, I’m hooome!” When there was no response, he looked around the apartment suspiciously. He dropped his keys on the tiny entryway table right next to Eddie’s and slowly set the bag of takeout down next to them. He shrugged out of his coat and noticed that Eddie’s shoes weren’t discarded by the door--very unusual for him. “Eddie?” There was no response again, so he walked back to their bedroom, thinking that maybe Eddie had decided to take a nap when he’d gotten home from work, or that he was in the bathroom or something. 

What he found in their room made his heart stop, he could feel it in his throat, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move. He didn’t know how to react. Eddie was lying on the floor, his shoes still on, every article of clothing on his body unperturbed. “Oh my god. Eddie!” He yelped as he bounded forward and reached Eddie in just one step, then collapsed to his knees right by his side. He didn’t dare touch him, he wasn’t sure what had happened, if he was hurt then Richie didn’t want to make it worse. But he wasn’t breathing. Richie’s heart started beating again, it was hammering in his chest so hard he could feel it in his fingertips, his face, his toes. It was deafening. His ears started ringing, he couldn’t hear anything--couldn’t hear the regular din of cars driving by and honking on the street outside, couldn’t even hear his own breathing anymore, all he could hear was the banging of his heart in his ears, the loud whooshing of his blood pumping furiously through his veins. He snapped out of it when sirens passed the apartment, throwing light into the room, flashes of red and blue dancing on Eddie’s pallid, still face. He swallowed and reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone, his fingers shaking violently, and did something he’d never in his life had reason to do—though he’d seen it in movies and on television since he was a kid. He dialed 911 and waited for someone to pick up. 

As he listened to the shrill tone of the phone ringing, he closed his eyes and felt tears fall down his face. He’d never been more terrified in his life. By the grace of god, the universe, Charles Darwin, Buddha, Allah, everyone Richie could think of off the top of his head, someone answered the phone.

**[May 12, 2011 | 5:12PM]**

Richie stared at himself in the mirror of his room as he straightened the tie on his rented tux. He was nervous. Not for any reason he could understand fully, it was just a dumb high school dance. But for some reason, it was probably partly due to the formal wear, he felt out of place. Anxious. Like he was a little kid playing dress-up. He and Eddie had been dating for over two years now, and while their friends knew about it, no one else at school really did. They were just those two nerdy best friends who were a little touchy but mostly kept to themselves. Nobody knew, and probably no one cared. But they were going to their senior prom tonight. Together. As a couple. It was something they’d both been talking about for years, but Richie was terrified. And he knew Eddie was too, although he was too stubborn to admit it. 

Richie took a deep breath and one last look at himself in the mirror, his tux perfectly pressed, although his hair was still the disaster it always was, he supposed there was no chance of fixing it. He tried to smooth it down a bit with his hands but gave up and flashed a shallow smile at his reflection. It was then that he realized he looked a lot different now than he had when he’d started dating Eddie, he’d grown about six inches, ditched the glasses, and picked up a nice bout of acne and patchy facial hair. He shook his head and stifled a giggle, still looking himself in the eye. Why Eddie was with him was a complete mystery to him, he didn’t think he’d ever understand. He’d come to the conclusion that maybe Eddie was a little funny in the head, why else would someone so _cute_ settle for someone like _him_. But alas, he didn’t give a flying fuck as long as it meant that he was the sole owner and proprietor of Eddie’s rockin’ ass. 

He made his way down the steps slowly, his brand new dress shoes slippery on the hardwood steps. “Oh, honey. You look so handsome.”

Richie swallowed. “Thanks, mom.”

“Are you excited?”

He shrugged. “A little nervous, I guess. But yeah. Excited.”

“Well, I picked up the boutonniere earlier, it’s in the kitchen. Sitting next to the car keys.” Richie’s eyes lit up, but before he could open his mouth, Maggie put a finger in the air. “Nuh-uh, young man. Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re allowed to drive tonight _if and only if_ you have the car back by midnight, that means no after-party, no drinking. You hear me?”

Richie nodded frenziedly, beaming. “That’s okay we weren’t gonna do that anyway because Bill’s parents are chaperoning and we didn’t want him to get in trouble so we can’t go to his house becausethenhe’dgetyelledatandthenhe’dbegroundedforgraduationand--”

Wentworth Tozier entered the room slowly, pulling his reading glasses off of his slender nose. “Son. Breathe. And go. You’re gonna be late, and you know how Eddie is.”

He nodded one more time, slower than before, and grinned at his dad, gesturing grandly with his arms, splaying his long limbs out to either side. “How do I look?”

“Like… well… like approximately forty-five dollars,” Wentworth joked, chuckling to himself as he folded the arms of his glasses and set them on the dining room table, taking the seat next to his wife.

She smacked his arm lightly, but with her left hand, hard enough to hurt just a little from her wedding ring. “He looks like a million bucks. Stop it Went, or he’ll leave and never come back.”

Richie laughed. “Of course I’ll come back, what am I gonna do when I need money?”

Maggie rolled her eyes at the two of them. “Go, Rich. Tell Ed hi. And… um. No hanky panky tonight, young man. You’ll drop that boy off at home and come right back here. We don’t need Sonia Kaspbrak out for our throats.”

“You gonna deprive _our_ son of his very own _Prom Night_ , Mags? Need I remind you about what happened on ours…” He trailed off, looking deep into her eyes, a wide, dumb grin on his face. 

Richie made fake, exaggerated gagging sounds. “Eugh. Jesus. I could have lived my entire life without hearing that sentence.”

Wentworth turned back to look him in the eye challengingly. “All jokes aside, Richie. If we find the two of you gettin’ down and dirty tonight we’re gonna have to have a long talk about this whole ‘letting you use the car’ thing. You hear me, Son?”

“God! Okay! Just. Fuck. We aren’t gonna… I’m leaving you guys and your _vulgarity_.” He whipped around on his heel and flashed them an elaborate wave of his hand before flitting through the kitchen to retrieve the car keys and the baby blue boutonniere that lay beside them, Eddie’s favorite color. 

**[October 13, 2018 | 7:33PM]**

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Um. Hi. I’m here and my boyfriend is--” His body forced out a sob, his chest was heaving under the tension of trying to suppress it. “My boyfriend’s not breathing. We’re at 315 east 12th, apartment 3F. Help me. I don’t know what to do, I need help right now. He has asthma.” 

“Okay, sir. Take a deep breath, I’m gonna have to ask you a few questions.” 

“No, I don’t have time for questions right now! He’s not breathing! His lips are fucking _blue_ . He’s gonna fucking _die_ and I can’t handle that, I can’t. You have to help me.” Richie was full-on crying now, speaking through his tears, sobs ripping through his chest. 

“I understand. I’m sending someone to you right now, but I need to get some information while they’re on their way.”

“Okay. Okay. Sorry. I’m--” He took a deep breath and rubbed at his eyes. “He’s the love of my life.”

“Okay. So, what happened before he stopped breathing? Has he taken any medication?” 

“I. Uh. I don’t know. Fuck. I was late getting home from work because I just _had_ to pick us up food, and of course, it took forever and--”

“It’s okay, sweetie, it’s not your fault. May I ask your name?”

“It’s Richie.”

“Okay, Richie. Well, I’ve sent EMTs your way, they’re gonna be there soon. Okay? Now tell me about what he looks like. Does he have a pulse?” 

“Oh god. Oh fuck. I don’t wanna-- I don’t wanna check. What if he doesn’t..?” He took a deep breath and reached out to touch Eddie’s neck. His mind flashed to the night before, when his lips had been exploring the same area, sucking and biting the thin skin as Eddie moaned from beneath him, his dick hard, thrusting inside of Richie. It had been so good, it had been... It had maybe been the last time. Ever. He let out another loud sob, gasping for air and crumpling around Eddie’s lifeless body. There was definitely still a pulse, slow as it may have been, and he was still relatively warm. “There is a pulse. Real slow.” 

“Okay, that’s good. And how did you find him?”

Richie swallowed. “On the floor. He’s… He was just laying here on his side.”

“Okay, why don’t you roll him onto his back, it may open his airways a bit.”

Richie did so, although it didn’t change anything about the dark blue tint of Eddie’s lips, the stillness of his chest, the color--or lack thereof--in his face. He patted Eddie’s pockets and retrieved his phone so that he’d have it for when Eddie woke up. If Eddie woke up. In his other pocket was his inhaler, small and blue. Richie pulled it out and turned it over in his hand, weird how something that he saw so often could feel so foreign in his hand. It felt lighter than usual as he turned it, so he shook it next to his ear. It was empty. He’d probably come in here to get the one they kept by the bed. He had been so close. 

The woman on the phone spoke again, Richie had almost forgotten she was there. “Did that help at all?”

Richie replied, “No,” barely above a whisper as more tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Okay, well, I’m being told the ambulance is almost there. You’re gonna be okay, just a few more minutes.”

“I don’t care if _I’m_ okay, I just want him to be. What if he doesn’t have a few more minutes?” Just a few seconds later, the sirens came into earshot and a wave of relief washed over Richie so intensely that he felt lightheaded. “Okay, they’re outside. Thank you so much.” 

“No problem at all. Hope he’s okay, Richie.”

Richie clicked the phone off and whispered to himself, “God, I hope so too.”

**[May 12, 2011 | 5:24PM]**

Richie’s hands shook as he drove through his neighborhood on the way to pick Eddie up. He checked the passenger seat every half mile or so to make sure the boutonniere hadn’t fallen, he didn’t want to mess it up, it was so perfect. Almost as perfect as the boy waiting for him. He grinned as he pulled into the driveway, Eddie’s house looking exactly the same as it always had. Before he could even unbuckle his seatbelt, Eddie came running out of the house, looking… well… _not_ the same as he always had. He looked--Richie swallowed thickly as he unbuckled himself and got out of the car--Eddie looked fucking hot. The tux he was wearing fit him like a dream. The dark blue fabric hugged his thighs in all the right ways, his light brown dress shoes scuffed along the pavement as he walked. He blushed when he reached Richie, who snaked his arms around his hips, pulling him in tight for a soft kiss. 

He leaned down to whisper close to Eddie’s ear, breath hot on his skin, arousing goosebumps on the back of Eddie’s neck. “Better be careful or my boyfriend might see us.”

Eddie giggled and smacked Richie’s arm. “Shut the fuck up.” 

Richie stood up straight and stared down at him, beaming. He’d combed his hair neatly, parting it to one side. Not a single strand was out of place. Richie counted the light dusting of freckles across his nose and leaned down to kiss each and every one of them. “Bunny… you look…” He spoke between kisses, “Fucking incredible.” 

Eddie sighed, blushing more deeply. “I thought we had decided against bunny.”

“You just have the cutest little nose, my love. What’s a man to do?”

“God, shut _up,_ Richie!” Eddie beamed as he pressed himself up onto his tiptoes to plant a kiss on Richie’s lips. 

Richie kissed back, fully leaning into it. He wrapped both arms around Eddie’s lower back and lifted him up, just a few inches off the ground. Eddie squealed in his arms and smiled up at him through his lashes, eyes dark. 

**[October 13, 2018 | 7:38PM]**

The paramedics entered their still unlocked apartment just moments after Richie had hung up with the 911 operator. They found him on the floor, sitting criss-cross next to Eddie, slouched over with one of Eddie’s hands in both of his. He turned his head to look at them as they bustled into the room, three men with large bags and one behind with a stretcher. Richie felt sick to his stomach, the ringing in his ears was back again. He didn’t hear them asking him to move the first few times, one of them knelt down to his eye level and put a hand on his shoulder. The man was maybe four or five years older than Richie, and the only thing he could think was that the guy looked young to be a paramedic. His brain felt like mush, and holding on to any coherent thought was harder than trying to hold water in your hands. 

He knew they were talking to him, he could see the man’s lips moving, forming words. But he couldn’t hear any of it. He only heard the pounding of his heart in his throat, then he heard Eddie. Heard Eddie’s laugh, a sound he made only when he found something so funny he couldn’t help it. He heard the snorting, almost silent, wheezing laughter in his head, and in his mind was a picture of Eddie smiling, a deep blush on his cheeks. It was a specific memory from a day a few months before. They’d been outside, Richie had made some dumb comment about some guy they’d walked past, he didn’t even remember what it had been. But he remembered Eddie’s laugh. He didn’t think he could ever forget it. Then he heard Eddie’s voice, muffled as if from a dream, but still there in his head. “You have to get up. Get up so we can help him.” _Help him?_ Richie shook his head back and forth and blinked his eyes, it had been the paramedic speaking, and Richie nodded slowly, starting to come to again. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m--” He rubbed at his eyes and shook his head again. “I don’t know."

The noises began to come back slowly, one of the other paramedics was talking through a radio behind him, he could hear someone upstairs unlocking their door and walking into their apartment. Hopefully to something better than he’d walked into earlier that night. Richie scooted back up against the wall and watched as they placed an IV in Eddie’s arm and attached it to a bag of liquid. 

“You the boyfriend?” The same paramedic asked quietly. 

Richie nodded without saying anything. 

“How long has he had the asthma?”

Richie shook his head, “Uhhh… I don’t know. Forever. Since we were kids. But he’d been fine recently. At least I thought.”

The man nodded gravely and cleared his throat. “What’s his name? We’ll get in contact with his doctors.”

“Eddie--er, well, his first name is Frank. Kaspbrak. He uh… I’m pretty sure the doctor’s name is Hudson?” He shook his head again, “I’m sorry I don’t re--”

“Date of birth?”

“It’s… um. It’s _eleven-twenty-eight-ninety-three_ ,” he breathed out quickly.

They swiftly maneuvered Eddie’s limp body onto the stretcher and began to move towards the door. Richie stood slowly to follow them, unsure if his feet could carry him. He stumbled behind them as the men wheeled Eddie through their living room. 

“Is he gonna be okay?”

One of them turned around to talk to him. “We honestly don’t know yet, son. We’ll take him to Mount Sinai Beth Israel, it’s at 17th and 1st, not too far from here. Do you need help finding a cab?” 

Richie stuttered, tears cropping up in his eyes again. “Can I not… I can’t go with him?” 

“Since you’re not family, you can’t ride with him, you’ll have to meet us there. I’m sorry, kid.” 

“Um. I’m. Wait, we’ve been dating for like, ten years. I’m his only family. He doesn’t have anyone else.” He was desperate, his breath coming in short gasps around his sobs. 

“They won’t let us, it’s the law. I’m really sorry.”

Richie nodded slowly, the world in front of him blurring behind hot, heavy tears. He watched as they wheeled him out the front door and was left standing in their living room in silence. He looked down at his shaking hands, still holding Eddie’s phone and his inhaler. He shoved them both in his pockets and grabbed his keys, leaving the takeout behind. 

Just as he was leaving, their cat poked its head out from underneath the entryway table and meowed at him, seemingly scared from all of the loud, frantic foot traffic. “Sorry, Bunny. We’ll be back home soon.” He left the house and locked the door behind him, not even bothering to grab his jacket before he made his way out into the cold night air.

**[December 23, 2017 | 9:50AM]**

Snow had finally fallen in New York City for the first time that winter. It had, so far, been a bitterly cold one, but at long last, it was the first snow of the year. And Richie was absolutely thrilled. It was a Saturday morning, and neither of them had anything at all to do, so they’d slept in late, both of them still wrecked from the night before. 

They’d gone out for drinks with Stan and Patty, and Richie had looked so good a new pair of jeans that Eddie had started discreetly palming him through his pants before they’d even left the bar. They’d run home, slightly inebriated, Richie half-hard in his tight jeans--his long coat a saving grace. It had been cold enough for their breath to condense in the air, Richie had giggled. “The only smoke I’d blow around you, love.”

Eddie had turned to him, a mischievous grin on his lips. “I can think of better things for you to blow.”

They had basically sprinted home, right up the stairs, working on the buttons of their shirts before they’d even unlocked the door. They’d shrugged their shoes off, leaving their coats and shirts by the door; a desperate mess of hands and lips and heavy breathing. Eddie had gasped when Richie had hoisted him up by his thighs, moving both of them into the bedroom. It had been a sound Richie had thought was better than a fucking symphony. _Beethoven ain’t got shit on my Eds._

So, they’d started a tangle of limbs, their extremities still slightly frozen from the frigid air outside. And just the same they had ended a tangle of limbs, hot and sticky with sweat; hair sticking to skin, skin sticking to sheets. 

They woke slowly the next morning, still naked under the covers, bodies pressed tightly against one another. Richie hummed quietly into Eddie’s hair, a slow, soft rendition of _Hold Me Tight_ by the Beatles, singing quietly every few lines.

_“Let me go on loving you,”_

He reached a hand up to brush his fingers through Eddie’s sleep-messed, still slightly sweaty hair.

_“Making love to only you…”_

Eddie curled in closer to his chest, closer to the warmth. He nuzzled his face into Richie’s dark chest hair and began to hum along, slightly out of tune. 

_“Being here alone with you tonight… Feels so right_

_Tell me I’m the only one… then I might_

_Never be the lonely one.”_

The sunlight streamed in through the window, extraordinarily bright. “Let’s do something today,” Richie whispered into Eddie’s hair, his breath shifting the strands ever so slightly. 

Eddie grumbled. “Can’t we just stay in bed all day? It’s so warm in here, Rich.” He breathed softly, his face still pressed up against Richie’s skin. He reached down to pull their comforter over his head, effectively burying himself in with Richie’s body. From under the sheets, Richie heard a muffled, “Maybe we can do some more of what we did last night… That was _definitely_ something.”

Richie gasped. “You little horndog!” He reached a hand out and pinched Eddie’s side, resulting in a muffled squeal from under the blankets and a swift kick to one of Richie’s shins. Richie laughed, “You can’t tempt me! I have willpower of steel.”

Eddie pulled the blanket back to expose only his face, pinning the fabric around his ears tightly as he grinned up at Richie. “That makes no sense.” He watched Richie stick his tongue out at him before delving back into the warmth of their bed.

From under the covers, Eddie could feel Richie lean away from him. He heard him knock his glasses off the nightstand, he giggled as they clattered to the hardwood floor. “Fuck,” Richie whispered, and Eddie felt him drop back down to lay on his back in defeat. 

Eddie reemerged from his little den. “You know, I still can’t believe I fell in love with Stevie Wonder. At least you’re cute.”

Richie smiled, opening one eye just a crack and squinting at him. “Mmmm, _My Cherie Amour,_ don’t insult your own cuteness.”

“I never said anything about you being cuter than me,” Eddie jested, finally crawling out from the blankets to place a kiss on Richie’s lips. He pulled back just a centimeter and kept their lips touching. “What should we do today?” He mumbled into Richie’s lips.

“Hmm, I’ve got some business to attend to…” Richie reached up to place a hand, large and warm, on Eddie’s hip, gripping it tightly. “Let’s talk about that in a second.”

Eddie reached behind him to cover them with the blanket once more. “Mmm, don’t sell yourself short, baby.”

The sex was fast, hot. A stark contrast to the arctic chill just outside their windows. After they were both showered and clean, they pulled on jeans, socks, Richie a t-shirt, and Eddie a sweater. As they were dressing, Richie caught sight of the window out of the corner of his eye. He slowly turned his head to look at Eddie, a brilliant smile on his face, so bright it was nearly blinding.

“What?”

“Guess what?” Richie asked, giddy.

“If you tell me that it snowed one more time, Richie, I swear to _god._ ”

Richie grinned, blushing. “Okay, it actually did this time though, I promise.”

Eddie started padding across the floor, still in his socks. “If I look out that window and--” He gasped and smiled up at Richie. “It’s beautiful.”

Richie pulled him in close by the waist and kissed his forehead. “So are you,” he whispered.

**[October 13, 2018 | 7:55PM]**

The second his feet hit the pavement outside, Richie started running. His mind ran just as fast as his feet did as he closed the distance between himself and Eddie. The hospital was only about a ten-minute walk from their apartment, they’d walked past it before. Never in a million years would Richie have guessed that one night he’d be running through the streets to find Eddie there, unconscious and on the brink of death. He let tears continue to fall from his eyes, knowing and not at all caring that he looked like a lunatic. He sped up, running under the streetlights, aware that every passerby--whether a resident or a tourist--was watching him choke back sobs, tracking the tears that graced his cheeks, chilly on his skin in the late-autumn wind, illuminated sporadically by the hot lights above.

He got to the hospital about five minutes after he’d left, the bright, fluorescent lights stung his tear-filled eyes. He wiped at his face and went up to the front desk, breath heaving in his chest. “Um. I’m looking for someone who was just brought here in an ambulance?” 

“Alright, sweetheart. That’s gonna be upstairs, take that elevator over there up to 3 then take a right. The desk is down at the end of that hallway.” 

Without responding, Richie took off running again. He caught the elevator open and jumped inside, pressing the small, circular button that read 3 over and over again, watching the light flicker on and off with each press. Once the doors finally closed, he stood inside the elevator as it took him up, it moved excruciatingly slowly. He tapped his foot anxiously and fiddled with his hands while he waited, and then squeezed through the doors the moment they started to open. He bounded to the reception desk of the emergency room. He spoke through quick, heaving breaths, “Frank... Kaspbrak? He just... got here I think.” 

The woman behind the desk typed the name into her computer and tapped her acrylic fingernails loudly against the desk as she waited for it to load. “Okay, yeah. He’s gonna be in the resuscitation room still, but you won’t be able to--”

“Thank you!” Richie called as he sprinted off down the hall, pushing through the doors into the main area of the emergency room, catching it just before it closed behind a doctor leading someone else’s family back. He pushed past them clumsily, running with no sense of where he was going, letting his nerves propel his feet forward. 

He turned a corner just as they were wheeling him in, he was hooked up to multiple IV bags and machinery. His shirt was missing, he was just in his jeans and socks now. As Richie ran to get closer, one of the nurses stepped aside and stopped him, putting a gloved hand on his chest softly. “Hey honey, are you the one that was with him?”

“Yes! And can you not call me honey? I’m fucking twenty-four. Let me see him, is he gonna be okay? I need to see him.”

The woman from the front desk came running up behind him, her high heels clacking against the tile floor. “I’m sorry, he just ran…”

“That’s okay. And we’re working really really hard, but you can’t see him yet. You can’t be in the room right now. You’ll have to wait in the lobby back by where you came in, one of us will come get you when he’s stable. Okay?”

Richie sighed, exhausted. It had only been about thirty minutes since he’d gotten home from work, but it felt like it had been weeks. “Okay. Just.” He brushed a hand through his hair. “Just don’t let him die, okay? Please.”

The nurse nodded and smiled kindly at him before turning around to go back into the room where Eddie lay, his life in the hands of what looked to be about fifteen doctors and nurses. Richie walked slowly down to the lobby, following the receptionist, dragging his feet as he went. He sat in the uncomfortable chair for hours, he had a view of the room through a small window in the doors separating the lobby from the rooms, and he hadn’t seen anyone come or go since he’d arrived. He sat with his legs spread apart and his elbows resting on his knees, propping up his head as he stared unwaveringly at the door. After a few hours, his eyelids began to droop, too heavy to keep open, and his contacts started drying out in his eyes. He didn’t remember closing his eyes, but when he opened them, it was light outside. 

He rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to wake up and tried to blink some moisture back into his ruined contacts. He stood up and stretched before pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking it for the first time since the previous night. It was 5:52 in the morning, and they’d gotten to the hospital around eight the night before. He sighed as he paced the lobby, dialing his boss. “Hey man, I can’t come in today. Or maybe for a few days. Eddie’s in the hospital.” 

“Oh, shit. Take all the time you need. What happened?” 

Richie rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand, “Asthma. I think. I don’t know, nobody will tell me anything.”

“Okay, well if you need literally anything, let me know. I’m so sorry, Rich.”

“Thanks. Talk to you later.” 

He hung up the phone unceremoniously and walked up to the front desk, the receptionist from the night before was gone, replaced by a nice enough looking man in his thirties. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and cleared his throat as he leaned on the counter. “Uh… I gotta get back there and talk to someone about Ed--uh. Frank Kaspbrak? He was brought in last night, I… uh...” He trailed off, too tired and mentally shot to finish the sentence, not even sure what he was trying to say.

The man behind the counter nodded and typed the name into the computer, then pressed his finger down on a call button, leaning forward, “342’s family is here, send a doctor up."

Through the window, Richie could see a doctor in a white coat making her way down the hall, a somber expression painting her face.

“How is he?” He blurted the moment the door opened, not even waiting for the doctor to greet him. 

“Sorry, we came to find you earlier but didn’t want to wake you. We got him breathing again last night, but he just went right back into another attack, so he’s sedated right now. We have him hooked up to a machine that’s doing the breathing for him until we can get it under control.”

“Oh, okay. Um. Is he gonna… What’s gonna happen?” 

“Well, he’s stable for right now, we’re just gonna take this slow, it may be a day or two. You might want to inform any family, just in case.”

“In case of…?” He shook his head quickly and cleared his throat. “Um. Okay. Can I… uh… Can I see him?” 

She nodded, “He won’t be very entertaining, but yeah you can see him. Press the call button if anything changes and someone will be here in an instant. I’ll show you to his room.” They walked through the doors and down the hallway, past the room Eddie had been in the night before, past other rooms with people asleep, people eating breakfast, family members fast asleep in the accompanying chairs. “Alright, here you are,” she said as she gestured to a room on their right, Richie could see Eddie through the window, now in a hospital gown, a mask over his face hooked up to a large machine next to his bed. 

Richie nodded frantically, “Thank you!” He ran into the room and sat next to Eddie in one of the chairs that sat beside his bed, a little more comfortable than the ones in the lobby. He sat quietly for a while, just listening to Eddie’s shallow breaths, watching his peaceful face, memorizing every feature. 

He felt tears welling in his eyes and didn’t reach up to wipe them away, he didn’t have the energy to. Instead, he started humming to himself. 

_“Never be the lonely one… So, hold me tight._

_Let me go on loving you…”_

After an hour or so of staring, his phone buzzed with a text. He pulled it out but there was nothing on his screen. His pocket buzzed again. He remembered he still had Eddie’s phone on him, so he pulled it out. The two texts were from Eddie’s boss. 

_Do you still have that lunch meeting with the people from the Bradford account?_

_Oh, nevermind, that was Anderson. Disregard._

Richie sighed as he unlocked Eddie’s phone and called Eddie’s boss. After he hung up, he put his head in his hands and massaged his temples, for the first time realizing how starving he was--he’d never actually eaten dinner the night before, so it had been almost eighteen hours since he’d had any food. He checked his own phone; seven percent battery. _Shit_. He quickly dialed Stan, the only one of his and Eddie’s friends from childhood who lived in New York.

After just two rings, Stan picked up. “Hey man, what’s up? I’m about to go underground so make it quick.” 

“Eddie’s in the hospital.”

Richie heard a small intake of breath, then silence from the other end for a few seconds, followed by a grunt from Stan. “Oh fuck--Hey! Okay, dude fuck you too! _You_ fucking watch where you’re walking, maybe don’t walk four inches behind someone!” 

He grumbled and Richie could hear background noise of him bumping through bodies and a muffled New Jersey accent yelling, “You can’t just stop fuckin’ walkin’ in the middle of the fuckin’ sidewalk!”

“Sorry. Some jackass rear-ended me. What happened?”

“What else would it be,” he whispered quietly, trying not to break out into tears again. “Can you… uh. You still have a key right? Can you bring me some stuff? I don’t wanna leave him.”

“Shit, I thought he was doing better! Um, yes, I still have it I’m pretty sure. Of course, I can, Rich. Give me just a sec, I’ll head over to your guys’ place right now, let me call my boss and I’ll ring you back once I’m at your place. Okay?”

“Thanks, Stan. I owe you one. And I’ll send you my location, it’s close to the apartment.”

“You owe me nothing. I love you, Rich. He’ll be fine. He’s way too stubborn to die, you know that.”

Richie chuckled softly, “Yeah. Well, okay. Just call me back later. Oh, wait. Actually. Eddie’s phone still has twenty percent, mine is at like five, so call his phone.”

“Will do, buddy. Talk to you soon.”

**[August 12, 2011 | 5:30PM]**

Richie groaned as he carried one of the last boxes up the three flights of stairs to his and Eddie’s new apartment. It was sweltering outside, the humidity stifling. His glasses were slipping down his nose from the sweat, but he still had more stairs to climb with his arms full of boxes. He passed Eddie who was on his way back down, slightly out of breath, as he almost always seemed to be. “Mm, Rich,” he huffed out a breath, “C’mere.” Eddie reached out and readjusted Richie’s glasses to actually cover his eyes again, pushing them up by the bridge of the nose. 

“Thank you, my love, my saving grace, my little--”

“Stop talking and start walkin’ before you drop those boxes, bitch,” Eddie retorted, a blush crawling over his face and the tops of his ears, meeting the redness already in his cheeks from the exertion. 

Richie giggled and continued to climb the stairs with fervor, they were nearly finished. Then he and Eddie would be moved in together. _Finally_. He smiled to himself as he reached the landing, tracing the now more familiar path to their door at the end of the hallway. He sidled up to the door and nudged it open with his hip, wandering in to find a spot for the box, although he had no clue whatsoever of its contents. He found his parents in the kitchen, his dad wiping sweat from his brow as his mother fixed glasses of water for both of them in the same large travel cups they’d been drinking out of during the drive from Derry. “Hey, son. Could you two have picked a hotter day to move to the most humid place in the US?” He asked, chuckling softly. 

Richie laughed warmly, “Sorry, old man. There’s just a few more things, I’m gonna go grab ‘em.”

Maggie Tozier nodded, “Alright. Can you finish up without us, Richie? We’re beat.”

“I think we can manage,” he said as he set the boxes down softly at his feet, groaning as he stood back up. He turned on his heel and walked for the door, nearly colliding with Eddie who’d just kicked it open with his foot.

“Jesus, Rich. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry, Eds,” Richie smiled down at Eddie, his face still red from the climb up the stairs. Eddie scowled up at him, not breaking eye contact as he set down the box he was carrying directly in front of Richie, effectively blocking his path. Richie used his long stride to simply step over the obstacle, shooting Eddie a mischievous grin as he passed.

“I hate you,” Eddie grinned and turned around to follow him out, pulling the door closed behind them. 

Richie turned once they were alone in the narrow hallway. “How many were left? Like, four?”

Eddie shook his head, “Two!”

Richie sighed, “Fuck yes.” He dropped his shoulders and slouched forward, his slender frame almost folding in on itself. Eddie could see his collar bones poking out through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, which featured a vintage-looking poster for his favorite movie, Star Wars Episode I. It had been a Christmas present from Eddie, although in Eddie’s opinion it was the worst of all of the films. The collar of it was drenched in sweat, showing in stark contrast to the light gray of the fabric. It rested against the pale, sensitive skin of Richie’s neck, still showing some fading marks from the night before. Eddie had the sudden urge to reach out and touch, to run the tips of his fingers over Richie’s bony shoulders, his long neck, his--no. He thought of the sweat and his mind snapped back to reality. It could wait. “You good there, Eddie?”

He blushed, “Mhm, let’s just finish up. I want a shower. And your parents only have like four hours to return that Uhaul and catch their flight.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait for a shower,” Richie said as they started for the stairs. “Got big plans for that shower…” he trailed off and reached forward, lightly grabbing at Eddie’s waist from behind.

Eddie leaped forward, crying out with laughter, “ _God,_ don’t _touch_ me, you nasty. You’re so sweaty.”

They returned just a few minutes later with the last load from the Uhaul below, closing the door behind them one final time. Maggie’s voice rung out from the “kitchen” although it was just the right side of the fairly small room that the front door opened up to. “All done, boys?”

“Yeah! Finally,” Eddie replied, huffing as he unloaded his arms. He slumped down to sit on the box he’d just placed on the floor, leaning forward to catch his breath.

“Took long enough,” Wentworth said jovially, finishing off the last of his water in one gulp. He stood up and clapped, rubbing his hands together firmly. He smiled over at Maggie, extending a hand to pull her up from the chair she’d been sitting in, one that had been in their first kitchen after they’d gotten married and had taken up a home in their attic for the last ten years. He looked at her ardently, “Shall we, my love?”

She took his hand and let him hoist her up, “ _Let’s shall_ ,” she giggled as she straightened up. 

“‘Kay boys, c’mere,” Wentworth spread his arms out, and both boys came forward to be pulled into a tight embrace. “God, you two smell bad. Take a shower. _Showers. Not one shower. Okay?”_

“Mhm, dad,” Richie replied smugly, nuzzling his head into the crook of Went’s shoulder. 

“Alright, love you two. Be good.”

“Thanks again for helping us,” Eddie said quietly. 

“No problem, kiddo,” Went said as he pulled back, ruffling both of their hair at the same time with each of his hands. 

“Oh, boys,” Maggie lamented as she walked over, pulling Eddie in first, wrapping both arms around him and pulling him close by the head. She left a kiss into his hair and whispered, inaudible to the others, “If that mother of yours gives you any trouble, let me know. Okay, hon?”

Eddie nodded, tears welling in his eyes, “Thanks, Maggie. You’ve been… a big help.” 

She placed her hands on his shoulders and smiled at him kindly. Maggie then looked up at her only son, who now towered four inches above her head. She beckoned for him with glassy eyes and pulled him in tight, although she just barely breached his chest nowadays. “I love you, sweetheart. I’m gonna miss you,” she turned her head to look at Eddie now too, “Both of you. Call if you need anything, okay?” They both nodded, smiling.

“Oh, and we ordered you guys a pizza, it’s gonna be here in a half-hour, everything’s paid for just sign my name,” Wentworth said, making his way towards the door.

“Oh my god,” they both replied simultaneously. 

Richie laughed, “Thank you, dad. So much. Fuck.”

“Hey now, language,” Maggie said quickly, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah, sorry. Okay… _Bye_ guys. Love you.”

“Bye, sweetheart. Love you both,” she replied softly, her eyes sparkling with tears she would not allow to fall until she was back in the truck.

“Bye boys,” Went said with a final smile as he closed the door behind them. 

**[October 14, 2018 | 8:23AM]**

“Hey, Rich. I just got to your place. What do you want me to grab?”

“Um, Okay. Well, make sure the cat’s got water and food and stuff, maybe check the litter box. Sorry, that’s gross, but… Yeah. And there’s takeout I got for us last night sitting by the door, can you throw it away? Trash chute is just at the end of the hall.”

“Okay, cat, trash, got it. You want clothes and stuff?” 

“Yeah. Eddie has a backpack hung up in our closet, you can throw stuff in there. Just like, sweats and a t-shirt for both of us would be great. And one of the phone chargers by the bed. Grab Eddie’s if you can, mine is falling apart. My glasses are in the bathroom. Aaand… I think that’s it.” He rubbed at his tired, dry eyes. “Oh, I guess my laptop and charger too, I don’t know how long this is gonna be but I’ve got some work I need to get done.”

“Check, check, and check. Anything else?”

“Coffee. Lots. They won’t give me a caffeine IV drip here, I don’t understand. What else is the point of a hospital.”

Stan laughed, “Okay, Rich. Maybe try and get some sleep. But I’ll be there soon.”

“Oh wait!” Richie exclaimed. “Toothbrush!”

“Alrighty, see you in a few.”

“Bye, Stanny.” 

“Bye.”

To distract himself while he was waiting, he stood up and walked slowly across the room to the table underneath the television, stretching and letting out a yawn as he did so. He grabbed the remote from the table and flipped the television on, listening to the muffled sound of the game show that had been left on by the previous tenants of the room. He sat down and began to circulate through the channels slowly, although there weren’t many. He finally landed on a rerun of _Friends_ , one he and Eddie had watched while they were binge-ing the show in the few months before they’d moved to New York.

“Remember watching this, Eds?” He whispered quietly, looking over at the placid face of the man he’d spent more than half his life in love with. “We were so excited to move here… we couldn’t wait. All those nights in my room that summer planning our escape. And we did it. And now we’re here. And you’re...” He sighed and leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands together in his lap. “Just promise me you won’t leave me here alone, Ed. I don’t wanna be here without you.” He sighed, letting his breathing fall in sync with Eddie’s slow, mechanical, measured breaths. He closed his eyes to let the wetness in them fall again, the corners of his eyelids wasting no time in becoming red and raw; he resisted the urge to wipe the tears away.

**[December 24, 2013 | 2:11PM]**

“What were we supposed to be making again?” Richie asked into the phone as he squinted at the shelves in the grocery store.

Eddie sighed through the speaker, “Pie, Rich. And mashed potatoes.”

“Riiiight right. Okay, well I’ll be home soon. Can’t wait to mash _your_ potatoes,” Richie replied with a chortle, which was met with Eddie swiftly hanging up the phone. 

As Richie walked home toting a bag heavy with five potatoes, pumpkin pie mix, and a pie crust; a gallon of milk in his other gloved hand, he scuffed his feet through the now-sludgy snow lining the sidewalk. He thought about the phone call he’d had to make to his mother a few months earlier to inform her they’d be staying in New York for Christmas, the first time in his life he wouldn’t be home for the holiday. 

***

“Richie, honey, just wanted to call to let you know that your Aunt Linda will be in town for Christmas, so you and Eddie will have to both be in your room while you’re home.”

Richie had been able to hear his dad faintly through the phone, “Mags, they’ve been living together in a one-bedroom apartment for two and a half years, I really do not think that’s gonna be a problem for them.”

Maggie huffed in response, “Went. We can at least _pretend_ that they aren’t… Whatever. Richie, dear, what day do you think you guys will be coming home? Have you looked at flights yet?”

He’d reached a hand up to rub at the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’d picked up from his father. “Uh… Yeah, about that. I don’t know if we can come this year.”

“Oh, Richie, no--”

“I hadn’t said anything yet… I didn’t wanna make you sad, mom. We just… we have the cat now, we can’t leave her. And since Eddie quit his job it’s been a little tight, I just don’t think we can swing it.”

“Well, your father and I can probably figure out a way to get you two back here, we can work it out, honey. I don’t want you to miss Christmas.”

“No, mom, it’s okay. We can’t just abandon the cat. And… uh. I think Stan’s staying, too. I’m pretty sure. He’s got a new girl, I don’t think she’s going home, there’s no way he will if she stays.”

“Okay, well. I guess if you two have Stanley there that makes it a little better. Are you sure, sweetheart?”

“Yeah. Tell Dad I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s okay. He’s all stressed with his sister coming in town, you know how those two get. Honestly, it’s going to be a nightmare, it’s probably better that you stay… But how’s school going?”

“Eh, it’s fine. Eds is pulling straight A’s!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! Send him our love, okay? We miss that boy.”

Richie chuckled. “Will do. Gotta go, love you, mom.”

“Love you too, sweetheart. Dad says bye too. Talk to us soon?”

“Okay, mom. Bye.”

***

Richie grinned to himself as he carried the groceries up the stairs to his and Eddie’s apartment, which was on the third floor of their complex. Hands full, he softly kicked on the front door a few times and waited for Eddie to let him in. He watched the peephole darken as Eddie, he was sure, was inside pushing himself up on his tiptoes to look through. He heard the locks turning and Eddie pulled the door open quickly, letting the warm air waft out from inside. He beamed, looking down at Eddie in a pair of gray joggers and one of Richie’s sweaters with the much-too-long sleeves rolled up almost to his elbows. “Hey there, beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned down to kiss Eddie.

“Finally,” Eddie replied, blushing deeply as Richie straightened back up. That was probably Richie’s favorite thing about him--they’d been together for _years,_ but he still went bright red every time Richie kissed him, or complimented him, or looked at him across a crowded room. “Okay, Stan and Patty are coming over in like an hour, they’re gonna make the steak here,” he said as he began walking into their tiny kitchen, still basically unchanged since they’d moved in, save the Christmas decorations Richie had put up earlier in the month. They put the groceries on the counter for later, and Eddie grabbed the carton of milk, bending over to wedge it into the refrigerator.

Richie let out a low, long whistle, “Well, my love, I have an idea of something we can do to pass the time…”

Eddie stood back up, flashing a mischievous grin over his shoulder, “Yeah? What’s that?”

Richie closed the distance between them, pulling Eddie in close, pressing his chest up against Eddie’s back and wrapping his arms around his waist. “Mmmm… board games? Maybe a puzzle? Ooh, we could read the paper. Y’know… adult stuff.”

Eddie spun around in his arms and reached his fingers up to pull at Richie’s hair. “Go on…” He giggled as he threw his arms over Richie’s shoulders and hoisted himself up to Richie’s level, wrapping his legs around his waist, beaming as he did so--his brown eyes bright and warm. Richie giggled and took a few steps to the left, depositing Eddie on the counter and situating himself between Eddie’s legs. He reached his hands down to rub at Eddie’s thighs, soft and warm wrapped in his sweatpants. Eddie smiled down at him, looking into his eyes--they were dark blue in the warm, low light of their tiny apartment, the twinkling lights from their small artificial Christmas tree swimming in the lenses of his glasses. “Merry Christmas, Richie.” 

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

**[October 14, 2018 | 8:41AM]**

When Stan arrived, he found Richie in the same spot he’d been in all morning since they’d let him into Eddie’s room: he was leaning forward in the chair closest to the bed, his leg bouncing, his eyes straining; his tears were the only reason his contacts hadn’t fallen out yet. He had dark circles under his eyes, the sunkenness enhanced by his pale face. Well, paler than usual, which was saying a lot. Richie didn’t notice the guest standing by the door until Stan cleared his throat, at which Richie’s eyes shot up, and a soft, broken smile fell across his lips. He stood up and bounded to the door, throwing his arms around Stan, holding him tight. “Hey man, thank you so much.” Richie tried to hide the wavering of his voice but Stan heard it. He knew Richie too well not to.

Stan squeezed back warmly, enveloping Richie in his thick overcoat. “You okay?”

Richie kept his face out of Stan’s view. He began talking, his voice shaking ever so slightly, although he was trying valiantly to mask it. “I’m… You know me, Stan. I’m… yeah.”

Stan pulled back, forcing Richie to look at him through glassy eyes. “You look like shit, Rich. You’re right, I do know you. It’s okay.”

Richie nodded, the film of tears over his blue irises thickening until a single tear dropped from the corner of his left eye. He cleared his throat. “You bring my glasses?” He wiped at his eyes hastily. “I… uh… My contacts are--”

“Yeah, they’re here,” Stan replied quietly, handing Richie the backpack he’d filled, choosing not to call him out on his lie. He watched Richie reach up and pop both contact lenses out at once. “Oh, you’re just gonna take them out right now. And… and you’re just gonna… just gonna throw ‘em right on the floor. Okay.” Richie looked back up at him, smiling softly as he shoved his glasses over his eyes. “Better?”

“Yeah. Better.” 

“What do you say we go get some coffee, Richie? I’ve heard that hospital coffee is all the rage, I’ve been dying to try it.” Richie turned to look back at Eddie, still unmoved in the bed. He turned back to Stan, eyes wide and pleading. “Rich, he’s okay here. You should get out for a minute. Walk around. Okay?”

Richie let another tear fall and looked down at his feet. He slowly began to nod his head, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna plug my phone in first.” 

Stan whispered, “Yeah, go ahead. Want me to give you a second?”

“Please?” 

Stan nodded and backed out of the room, positioning himself just outside the door, still able to see in through the small rectangular window. He watched Richie fish around the backpack for a phone charger slowly, watched his back rise and fall unevenly with his sobs. Once he’d found the cord, he leaned down and plugged it into the wall. Stan watched him pull his phone out of his pocket and carefully, painstakingly put the charger into the bottom of it. He placed it back on the chair that he’d been keeping warm for the last two hours and pulled Eddie’s phone and inhaler out of his pockets, placing them gently next to his phone. Stan watched him swipe at his eyes numbly under his glasses and take a deep breath before turning around to face Eddie. He couldn’t hear, but he could see Richie’s lips moving through the window. What he could make out was _“...right back… you so much. Don’t die.”_ He then leaned down and placed a kiss on Eddie’s forehead, brushing his bangs off his face, using his fingers to fix Eddie’s hair to the way he normally wore it. He straightened up and took one last deep breath before walking around the bed to meet Stan outside the door.

He smiled brightly at Stan after he closed the door behind him, it was a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, however hard he was trying. “Shall we have a cup of New York’s finest coffee?”

“You definitely need it,” he grinned at Richie.

Richie elbowed him softly in the arm, the weak smile somehow unwavering on Richie’s cheeks. 

The cafeteria was a few floors below Eddie’s room, on the ground floor of the hospital. It wasn’t a far walk down, and finding the coffee was pretty easy. Stan paid, insisting on it. Richie didn’t put up much of a fight, just flashing Stan appreciative eyes at the cash register. They sat down in a quiet corner of the room, it was filled with solemn-looking people, a few kids running around, not being wrangled by their clearly exhausted parents who had neither the energy nor the willpower left to do anything about it. Richie thought about how he’d be in that situation, if there was a kid in the picture--he shook his head quickly to clear his mind of the thought, it was too painful. He slipped his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes. Stan reached across the table and placed a hand on Richie’s arm softly, his fingers were warm. It felt nice. Felt like home. Richie smiled back up at him, eyes unfocused without his glasses. “Thanks for coming. I… uh. I really needed it.”

“Of course, Rich. What…” he cleared his throat, “What happened…?” 

Richie sighed. “I have no idea. I was late getting home from work because I picked dinner up for us… I came home and he was just… I found him in our room. I just feel _so_ ,” he put his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut. “I should have been home, Stan. I could have helped.”

Stan squeezed his hand, still on Richie’s arm. “Hey hey hey, it’s not your fault. Richie?” 

Richie slowly looked back up at him and opened his eyes. He reached for his glasses and put them back on, sniffling. “I should have been there. You should have seen him. He was… his lips were _blue_ , Stan.” 

“You did what you could to help him. There’s nothing more you could have done. He’s here now, that was you. Okay?” 

Richie blinked through his tears, his eyes impossibly crystalline behind his glasses, almost glittering under the fluorescents. “What if he… doesn’t make it? I can’t handle that. He’s the best goddamn thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ll-- I don’t know how to live without him. I’ve never had to."

“I know, I’ll be here for you. The whole time. Whatever happens. I’m not gonna bullshit you because we both know you’re too smart for that… I have no clue how this plays out, but I’m here, Rich. Okay?”

“Thanks, Stan. I think… I think I’m gonna head back up there. You can get back to work. I kinda wanna be alone with Eddie for a little.”

“O--Okay. Are you sure? I’ll stay with you, or I can stay here with Eddie if you wanna go home. Shower or something.”

Richie shook his head. “I’m good here, I wanna talk to the doctors and stuff.”

“Alright. Let me at least walk you back upstairs.”

Richie nodded and downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp. They walked in silence, neither of them sure what to say to the other. When they got back up to Eddie’s room, Stan pulled Richie into a hug. “Maybe try calling Bev, she always knows what to say. Please call me when you hear anything about Ed, okay?” 

“Yeah.” Richie took a deep, shaky breath, “Stan? I--” he gulped, trying to suppress a sob.

Stan shushed him softly, “It’s okay.” 

Richie broke down in his arms, letting his tears flow again. “I’m scared, Stan,” he whispered through heaving breaths. 

Stan reached a hand up to clap Richie on the back warmly. “I know you are. I am too. We’re gonna get through this, _that_ I can promise you.”

Richie sniffled and wiped at his eyes around Stan’s back, then he took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

**[December 24, 2013 | 4:12PM]**

When Stan and Patty arrived at their apartment, a steak and a bag of frozen vegetables in hand, Richie was still in the shower, washing off the remnants of their quick romp, which had ended in a mishap with the lube. Eddie had washed off quickly and dressed himself in a pair of khaki-colored corduroys and a dark red sweater. He pulled the door open for the two of them and led them into the kitchen, “Yeah, we haven’t started on anything, sorry. Richie was… uh…” Eddie blushed and turned his head at a commotion coming from around their bathroom. 

Richie, in his attempt to scurry through the living room quietly in just a towel, had tripped over the cat. “Fuck. Left my glasses in the other…” he squinted over at the kitchen, “Is that Stan and Patty? Shit sorry, hang on guys.”

Stan chuckled, “Go get dressed, idiot.”

As he closed the door to their bedroom, Richie called behind him, “Sure you don’t want me to just wear my birthday suit, Stanny?” 

Eddie shook his head. “Anyway, we can just start working on stuff in here, what do you guys need?”

“Just like a pyrex dish for the meat and a small one for the veggies,” Patty replied. 

Stan smiled at her, in a way Eddie had never seen him smile before. He recognized it immediately though, it was the same way Richie looked at him, and Eddie knew he was just as fucked as they were. This was it for Stan. Eddie was pulled out of his thoughts by a set of arms wrapping around him from behind, “Oh my god, you look like such a little _nerd!”_ Richie leaned down to breathe into Eddie’s ear, “Cute cute _cute.”_

Eddie turned around to grin at him, “Takes one to know one, four eyes,” Eddie said, slipping Richie’s glasses off and putting them on his own face. He winced, squeezing his eyes shut, “Ah fuck, nevermind. I always forget how blind you are, take them away.”

Richie giggled, replacing his glasses on his nose and looking back up at Stan and Patty. “So, what’s the game plan?”

Patty shrugged, “If you two could stop eye-fucking over there, maybe we can make some dinner?”

Richie gasped, “Oh, Stan. I like her.”

Stan smiled, Eddie watched as Richie also noticed the new demeanor. “I do too.”

The four of them bustled around the tiny kitchen for the next hour or so, Christmas music playing softly from the speakers in the living room, the warm tinkling of laughter, and the clinking of wine glasses interspersing the quiet, slow music. The night went by much the same, a blur of smiles and laughter, mostly coming from Richie laughing at his own jokes. 

After dinner, they moved to the living room to continue the conversation, Richie plopping down in their big armchair, Eddie in his lap and the cat curled up in Eddie’s, purring softly as she slept. Richie watched around Eddie’s shoulders as Stan and Patty curled up on their couch, Patty clutching a mug of hot spiked coffee in both hands, smiling up behind her at Stan with eyes hooded from too much wine and good food. Eddie leaned back onto Richie’s chest slowly as to not disturb the cat, “They’re sickeningly cute,” he whispered under his breath. 

Richie reached a hand up to massage gently at Eddie’s thigh, “I don’t think we’re allowed to say shit like that, Eds. Remember high school?”

Eddie chuckled quietly, “We were vomit-inducing.”

“You guys still are,” Stan said from the couch, running his fingers through a now asleep Patty’s long hair. 

Eddie shrugged, Richie could feel the blush radiating off of him in waves, he could see it creep around to the back of his neck from where he was seated. He really didn’t think he could possibly love him any more.

**[October 14, 2018 | 6:19PM]**

“We’re going to begin attempting to wean him off the ventilator tomorrow morning, so we’ll be back around eight to start prep for that, okay?”

Richie nodded slowly as he sat up and pulled off the hood of his sweatshirt, trying to flatten his hair somewhat and get rid of the static. The nurse had come in and woken him up, he’d fallen asleep with his chair pulled up next to Eddie’s bed and his arms and head sprawled in the blankets covering Eddie’s legs. He’d been shooed off the bed so that she could change out the IV bags near Eddie’s head, and had begun to give Richie a status update unprompted, for which he would be eternally grateful. She worked quickly and left when she was done, leaving Richie just as abruptly as she’d joined him. He rubbed at his eyes and checked the clock on the wall. He had about two hours to kill until anyone was due to come back, so he picked up his phone from the chair next to him.

He unlocked his phone and stood up as he clicked on his mom’s contact info in the short speed-dial list on his phone that included his parents, Eddie, Stan, Beverly, and his boss. He paced around the small room, just waiting for her to answer, his hands shaking around the phone held up to his ear. His heart immediately slowed when he heard her voice on the other end of the line, something about it just instantly broke up the anxiety buzzing around in his head, bouncing off the walls of his brain like fast, loud bees.

“Hey, sugar. How are you? Stan called earlier, he said you might want some space to process things for a bit. I’m glad you called.”

The moment he opened his mouth a sob came out, unexpected and heavy in his chest. 

“Honey. What can I do? Do I need to come out there? I can get on a plane tonight.” 

Richie started shaking his head slowly, then remembered she couldn’t see him. He choked the sobs back and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie. “No, don’t come… um. Don’t come yet. I don’t know,” he let the sobs crash over him again, he knew his voice would shake if he tried to use it again, so he didn’t.

“Do you want to talk to your father? I know he wants to talk to you.”

He mustered what voice he had left, “Mhm... yeah.”

Some shuffling on the other line, he could hear fabric brushing against the microphone as the phone exchanged hands. “Hey, bud. How you holding up?”

Richie took a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes. “Not great.”

He heard Wentworth sigh. “How can I help? I would like to talk to the doctor if you get a minute and can send the number along.”

Another sob was threatening to tear Richie asunder, he did his best to hold it back. “You’re a dentist, dad.”

“A dentist with Google and doctor friends,” he responded. Richie could almost hear his warm smile from four hundred miles away. 

“Yeah, I’ll send the number in a bit. Thanks, Dad.” 

“Love you, son, we both do. And we love both of you so much.”

“I know, Dad. I love you, too. So does Eddie. Um… I’m gonna go…” he took another deep breath. “Gonna get that number for you.”

“Okay, son. But we’re here, we’ll answer any time to talk, even at three in the morning. Just please keep us updated.”

Richie nodded, “Bye, Dad.”

**[May 22nd, 2011 | 6:07AM]**

Richie scrambled down the stairs of Eddie’s childhood home, Eddie hot on his heels, trying to zip up a suitcase as pieces of clothing stuck out in every direction. He tried to tuck the clothes in tighter which just caused more to fall out onto the stairs, marking their path like breadcrumbs in an old fairy tale. 

Eddie’s mother had woken early that morning--a very abnormal occurrence in the Kaspbrak household--to find Richie wrapped around Eddie in his bed, the both of them completely naked and only covered by Eddie’s thin top sheet. The second she had opened the door, she’d reacted with a screech loud enough to be heard throughout the block. Still half-asleep, they’d thrown clothes on and stuffed as much of Eddie’s stuff as possible into his dad’s old suitcase before booking it out of the house. 

“You get the fuck out of this house, I cannot believe you would sin in front of God, in _my_ home. You disgusting little _perverts_. Don’t ever come back here, either of you,” the screams followed them down the stairs, hanging in the air like a terrible smell hung in thick, mid-summer air. 

At the bottom of the stairs, Eddie paused, throwing the suitcase on the ground in front of him. “Rich, one sec,” he got out around wheezing breaths. “Can’t get this… fucking thing zipped.”

Richie spun on his heels, his concerned eyes flashing between the suitcase and Eddie, doubled over, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. He kneeled down to scoop up the bag that now housed all of Eddie’s earthly possessions in his long, gangly arms. “You gonna have an attack?” His brows furrowed, eyes studying Eddie.

Eddie took a slow, deep breath in and shook his head. “Let’s just get out of here.”

They sprinted through the front door, Richie rounding the car quickly and throwing the suitcase in the backseat of Eddie’s car while Eddie started it. He hopped in the passenger side and they screeched out of the driveway as fast as possible, the tires leaving black tracks on the pavement behind them. 

“Pull over,” Richie said softly once they’d gotten a few blocks from Eddie’s house. 

Eddie shook his head. “I’m fine… Only a few minutes to your house.” 

Richie wrapped a hand around Eddie’s arm. “You shouldn’t be driving right now. You’re upset for one, and plus you’re still fucking wheezing, Eddie. And don’t pretend you’re not, I can hear it.”

Without saying anything, Eddie pulled the car over. He unbuckled and turned to face Richie. “I really am fine, I just got… worked up.” Richie raised his eyebrows at him expectantly and he sighed, breath still whistling a bit. “Fine.”

Richie opened the passenger door, walking around the car quickly. Eddie simply pushed himself up with his arms and scooted across the center console. He settled into the passenger seat, pulling his inhaler out of the pocket of his shorts and taking one puff from it, his breathing gradually growing quieter as Richie watched apprehensively from the driver’s seat. Eddie rolled his eyes, “Chill, dude. I said I’m fine.”

“I just…” Richie sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “You stress me out. I love you so much and I can’t handle it if this shit kills you.”

Eddie leaned over and nudged Richie with his shoulder, “You’re definitely going to die before I do, mister hot Cheetos for breakfast four days a week.”

Turning the car slowly back onto the road, Richie chuckled. He looked over at Eddie, analyzing his expression--eyes darting around nervously as he looked out the windshield. Eddie cleared his throat. “Do you think… um? Would your parents be okay if I stay tonight?” He combed his fingers through his hair absentmindedly, trying to tame the bed head he hadn’t had a chance to fix yet. “...Maybe tomorrow too?”

“Obviously. I think my mom likes you better than she likes me. They’ll let you stay as long as you need.”

Eddie nodded slowly, coming to terms with his current situation--Richie could see the wheels turning rapidly in his brain, his thoughts spinning out. He reached a hand across the cup holders that separated them to set his hand on Eddie’s thigh--right where his shorts ended--and started to slowly swipe his thumb back and forth across the tanned but still soft skin as he held the steering wheel steady with his left hand. Eddie placed a hand on top of Richie’s, looking over to meet his eye line, “I’m scared that might be a while… I’ve never seen her this mad before…” he shuddered as he trailed off.

As he pulled into the driveway, Richie shrugged. He yawned then turned the keys and pulled them from the ignition, reaching over to drop them into Eddie’s already outstretched hand. “We got two months and we’re out of here. You don’t even have to see her again before we go if you don’t want to. We’ll--oh, we’ll plan like a break-in-heist-type of situation to get the rest of your shit. I can try to climb that tree by your window, it’s been like three years since I’ve fallen out of that thing. It’ll be fun!” He smiled at Eddie, eyes lit up above his grin.

Eddie let his mouth break into a smile, which he would have thought impossible only a few minutes ago. “I love you, idiot.”

“You too. Always.”

**[October 15th, 2018 | 1:45AM]**

Richie groaned as he sat up and rubbed at his eyes, patting around on the chair next to him for his glasses. He checked his watch. He’d been trying to get to sleep for the last three hours, after a long evening away from Eddie while they’d prepped for the procedure that was happening in the morning. He’d wasted time meandering around the halls of the hospital, walking past people in the same boat as him. Always making short eye contact with people walking down the hall before they inevitably both averted their gaze, very focused on their shoelaces and not the obvious, bleak grief in the eyes of the other. It felt easier that way.

He had gone back down to the cafeteria for maybe the third time since he’d arrived--only going after having used the bathroom in Eddie’s room around dinner time and getting a glimpse of himself in the dirty, warped mirror above the sink. The man looking back at him hadn’t been someone he recognized. His eyes were sunken behind his glasses, his cheeks hollow. His skin was pale, which only accentuated the circles under his eyes and the shadow that had fallen over his irises; no longer a light blue as they normally were in the sun, now more of a dark blue-ish gray. 

In the cafeteria, he’d busied himself just as he had the other times he’d gone. It was the middle of the dinner hustle and bustle. He fell in line behind a nurse on her break, he filled a plate of what, to him, didn’t even look like food. He stared at it, trying to make it magically look like something real. Something that wouldn’t taste like sawdust. He had ended up finding a table to himself in a quiet corner and pushing the food around the plate, taking just one bite after it had already gone cold, which didn’t help in the slightest, and pitching what was left. 

The walk back to Eddie’s room had been dissociative; he’d made his way through the halls a zombie, floating around corners, up flights of stairs, through sets of doors without paying attention to signs. After a while, it had occurred to him somewhere deep in his brain that he might have been lost, but it was such a dull, muted idea that he couldn’t form even a fragment of a plan as to how to get back to Eddie. He thought he could ask someone, but didn’t trust his voice not to shake, not to say the wrong thing. He was convinced his brain couldn’t form coherent thoughts any longer, and at this point, the idea of going back to Eddie’s room felt weird and foreign. Like he shouldn’t be going. After ambling through the halls a while, he had finally made it back to a part of the hospital he recognized and had found Eddie’s room as if walking out of a dark, cloudy haze. 

The doctors had finished doing whatever it was they needed to do to prep Eddie for his procedure in the morning. Richie had decided there was nothing else to do besides try to sleep until it was time. And he had been trying, valiantly, to do so since the clock in the corner of the room had read 11:21pm. It was now almost two in the morning and he was no closer to sleep than he had been while he’d been wandering around the hospital. 

He got up and shuffled into the bathroom, flicking the light on against his better judgment: he didn’t want to see what he looked like--a sleep-deprived, malnourished disaster--but there was no other light in the small room and he also did not want to be alone in the dark. Taking his glasses off and folding the arms, he thought about the night a few weeks before when Eddie had done the same for him, much more tenderly than he ever could, their clothes strewn across the apartment in a frenzy that had started in the kitchen and ended in the bedroom. Eddie really could never resist Richie when he wore them, said it made him feel like they were teenagers again. He gingerly placed the bulky frames on the sink, careful to make sure he wouldn’t knock them onto the floor. He really didn’t want to break them right now. The faucets in the old-looking bathroom were by no means shiny and clean anymore, he assumed they hadn’t been for a while. He shuddered at what Eddie would think about a hospital bathroom feeling this dirty as he turned the water to a comfortable lukewarm. When the water finally started running from the faucet after a momentary pause, it left the end of the faucet in a very slow and irregular manner, the horrible new york water pressure and limescale buildup doing the sink no favors. He cupped his hands under the stream and splashed the warm water onto his face a couple of times, hoping it would at least make him feel a little cleaner. The toothbrush Stan had brought was staring back up at him from the sink, so he put some toothpaste on it and brushed his teeth for the second time that night, just to kill time.

The world was thrown back into focus after he dried his face and put his glasses back on; he turned off the bathroom light and made his way back to where he’d been trying and failing to sleep for basically two days now. His eyes drifted between the chair and Eddie’s bed, and in his sleep-deprived, almost delirious state, he climbed in and curled up next to him. Sleep hit him like a train.

When the nurses came in the morning to take Eddie, he quickly tumbled out of the bed as he heard the door open, only to be greeted with their soft laughs. “It’s fine sweetie, we’re going to take Frank but he’ll be back in a few hours. Try to get some more sleep, you’ve been here too long and you’ve barely slept.”

Richie nodded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Eddie,” he whispered. When the nurses shot a confused look at him, he repeated himself. “It’s Eddie. No one calls him Frank. Just so you know.”

The two women nodded as they wheeled Eddie out of the room, Richie watched helplessly as his favorite person--his entire world--disappeared from sight. He just hoped he’d get to see him again soon, get to make him laugh again.

**[September 23, 2008 | 3:56PM]**

The air outside was chilly, fall had just gotten underway in Derry. They were out on one of their routine after-school walks around the barrens--something Richie and Eddie had started doing just a month earlier, before anything had happened between them. It had all started as an excuse for Richie to have a cigarette after school before he went home where he wasn’t allowed to even _think_ about smoking--if his parents found the pack he’d be dead meat. Richie used to go with Bev almost every day, but she’d gotten an after-school job to save up for a car, and the days she wasn’t working she spent with Ben, who’d just recently asked her out a few months prior. The first week after Bev started ditching Richie, he begged all of them incessantly to go with him, making a big show about “being abandoned like the kid that didn’t get chosen in _Sophie’s Choice._ ” Eddie had begrudgingly agreed to go the first day, not at all intending for it to become a regular thing. But, here they were, a month later, and they hadn’t missed a single day.

“Come on,” Richie stood up and patted the legs of his jeans to get the dirt off, then leaned over to grab his backpack and sling it over his shoulder. He looked down at Eddie who was just laying in the dirt, using his own backpack as a pillow and Richie’s oversized windbreaker as a barrier between his clothes and the ground, his knees bent so that only the soles of his shoes touched the slightly damp ground. “There a pea under that mattress, princess?”

Eddie scoffed. “Shut up.” He stood up and handed Richie his jacket back, but not before shaking it out to make sure there was no dirt or leaves stuck to it. “Where are we going? I don’t really want to go home yet.”

With Richie leading, they began trekking through the mud and overgrown roots around their feet, slowly moving in the opposite direction of home. “No no, never home. If I could just stay out here forever I would,” Richie said, carefully scanning the area for the path he’d found a few months ago. 

“Okay… so then why are we going this way? I don’t think we’ve ever been over this way before,” Eddie said hesitantly. He was following closely behind, carefully placing his feet where Richie had previously stepped and cleared some of the debris out of the way.

Richie laughed. “Too many questions. Just follow me.”

Shrugging, Eddie shoved his hands in his pockets and did as he was told, following Richie up a slight incline on a not-so worn path Richie seemed to know inherently how to follow.

They climbed for about twenty minutes, then came upon a clearing in the trees which opened out to the top of the hill they’d been ascending. Richie beckoned for Eddie to follow him to the middle of it, a soft, seemingly untouched patch of grass littered with small white clovers. He plopped down into criss-cross in one quick motion, then laid his jacket on the ground next to him for Eddie to sit on. Eddie looked down at his wide eyes, they were asking a question Eddie wasn’t sure he wanted to answer. 

“Sit,” Richie patted the space where his jacket was now laying in the grass. He spoke in a soft tone, a voice Eddie didn’t hear from him often, usually only in times like this--when they were alone and things were quiet, familiar, cozy.

As he sat, folding his legs under him to sit on his shins, he looked over at Richie--into those wide, searching eyes. “Why’d you always give me your coat to sit on when we come here…?” He asked, eyes flitting away from Richie’s, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Richie shrug and lay down on his back, stretching his arms out and folding his hands together beneath his head. He rolled his head over to stare back up at Eddie. “Want you to be happy, I guess.” 

“It’s just…” Eddie fiddled with his shoelaces, still unable to meet Richie’s eyes. “You don’t for the others, not even Bev. Well, before she and Ben got together when you still used to flirt with her all the time.” 

Richie closed his eyes, lighting the cigarette he’d just placed in his mouth. He took a long drag, then blew the smoke away from Eddie. “Want one?” He asked, opening his eyes again.

“What? No? Why would I want one?”

Richie threw his hands up in defense, “Just asking! One of these days I’ll get you to share one with me.”

“And one of these days you’ll die from lung cancer and I won’t have to keep wondering about what all this shit means. Don’t change the subject.”

“I don’t know…” Richie sighed and propped himself up on one elbow, a little closer to Eddie’s level now. “What do you want it all to mean? I can never tell with you so I just assumed…”

Eddie finally looked down and made eye contact with him. “Assumed what?”

“That you didn’t like me! You’re always going on about how annoying I am and complaining to the others,” his voice was higher than usual. He was nervous.

“Oh my god. You idiot.” Eddie leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. “I liked you the whole time,” he mumbled--almost inaudible, the sound muffled by his hands.

Richie sat up slowly, grinning like a kid who just learned they were getting extra presents on Christmas morning. “Imma need you to say that one more time, didn’t quite catch it.”

Eddie’s eyes darted nervously around, anywhere besides Richie’s face. He groaned. “I’ve liked you since the day we met. I’m just dumb.”

Richie reached over and lightly grabbed Eddie’s chin, not letting him look anywhere else. “You are dumb, Eds, but only because you said earlier that I used to flirt with Bev. That’s stupid because it was all for you. Always for you…” his smile fell and his eyes were wide as he stared back into Eddie’s eyes, waiting for a response. 

Instead of responding, Eddie repositioned himself so that he was directly facing Richie. Before he could psych himself out and change his mind, he leaned forward to place a quick kiss on Richie’s lips and pulled back, brows furrowed. The silence was deafening, felt like years ticking away as they stared at each other. Richie was the first to break, then Eddie shortly after--they started laughing together, synchronized in their elation. They laughed until they couldn’t breathe, it was just their shoulders rising and falling quickly as they lay down on their backs, slowly starting to calm down. 

Eddie rolled over and reached a hand out, as Richie turned to face him he fanned his fingers out on his chest. Richie reached a hand up and placed it over Eddie’s smaller one, completely engulfing it in warmth. As they caught their breaths, they studied each other’s faces in a way neither had before. Richie sighed, letting a few more chuckles out. “Thank god.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie breathed out, moving his hand up to cup Richie’s jaw and leaning back in for more. They lay together in the chill September air, lips and bodies crashing together for the first time, fingers intertwining, tangling in each other’s hair. 

When they finally broke to catch their breaths again--this time very much not from laughing too hard--Richie was beaming at Eddie. He reached both hands up in front of his face, forming a rectangle with his fingers and making a camera-shutter sound. Something corny he’d seen in a shitty rom-com Bev made him watch that he’d started doing only to annoy everyone else in the group.

“Oh come on, that’s so lame.”

Richie smiled, eyes still serious. “Nobody has ever looked at me the way you just did. And I highly doubt it’ll ever happen again. Gotta save that shit.”

“As long as you’re not saving it for your spank-bank like half of the other ones you take.”

“Oh, my love, it’s too late for that.” They both devolved into another laughing fit, leaning into one another and just letting the moment fall apart into what they spent most of their time doing anyway.

**[October 15, 2018 | 4:38pm]**

Eddie’s eyes opened slowly, having a hard time adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital room. It was almost dark outside, and the floodlights from the parking garage streamed in through his window, casting odd, blue-ish shadows across his legs. He tried to sit up, the muscles in his chest and back feeling extremely sore and overused. As he sat up, his chest contracted and he coughed harshly into his arm, nearly choking on the mucus that came up with it. After a few seconds of mild panic, he leaned forward and swallowed. Once he was able, he took a slow, deep breath in through his mouth, closing his eyes and putting his head in his hands, brushing his fingers through his greasy, matted hair. _Fuck_ , did his throat hurt. He’d have to have Richie make him some of that tea he always drank before bed.

 _Richie._

His eyes bolted open and he looked around the room, finally falling on Richie, curled up in the chair next to the bed, his knees folded up in front of him and the back of his head resting stiffly against the wall behind him. His glasses still covered his closed eyes, but Eddie could see the dark circles under them. He watched as Richie took even, slow breaths, occasionally twitching an arm or a foot. He smiled, feeling tears well up in his eyes as he watched Richie sleep, unperturbed by the beeping of all the machines in the room. The idea of waking up to anything or anyone else was abhorrent. 

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stretched his arms above him, having not moved his muscles in nearly two days. He yawned as he stretched, reaching forward towards his feet to stretch his back out. The squeaking of the hospital bed was apparently enough to rouse Richie, although neither the steady beeps of the machines nor Eddie’s earlier coughing had been sufficient. Eddie shot a glance to his right as Richie let out a half-snore, half-choke, jerking forward and out of sleep. His eyes weren’t focused yet, he stared straight ahead blankly, still lost somewhere between asleep and awake. 

Eddie chuckled softly, “You look like shit, Rich,” his voice hoarse, almost a whisper. 

Richie’s eyes focused in the general direction of Eddie’s voice, a smile painting his features immediately. “You’re alive,” he whispered back, tears threatening his eyes for the millionth time in the last two days. 

Eddie nodded, his tears from earlier back with a vengeance. He smiled and beckoned for Richie to join him in the bed.

Richie stood slowly from the chair he’d been keeping warm for almost forty hours. He closed the short distance between them quickly, bending over to meet Eddie’s eyes, wrapping his large hands around Eddie’s face, almost to check and make sure he was real. Really there, really breathing. 

Eddie cleared his throat. “I love you, Rich. A lot. A million times more than I’ll ever be able to explain to you.”

Richie nodded. “And I hate you so much right now. Don’t _ever_ scare me like that again, you little asshole.”

Eddie laughed, hard, then leaned away from Richie to cough a few times. “Oof,” he said quietly when he caught his breath. “‘M tired. Can we go back to bed?”

“Yeah. You okay?”

“Mhm. Just sleepy,” Eddie replied, his eyes already drooping again. He scooted back to one side of the bed, making space for Richie to lay next to him, looking up at him with pleading eyes. 

“Are you sure? I haven’t showered in like… three days.”

Eddie nodded, getting closer to sleep with every breath. “Don’t wanna sleep without you.”

Richie shucked his shoes off, climbing in the small bed next to Eddie, curling up on his side and reaching for Eddie’s IV-port-free hand, intertwining their fingers. “Don’t wanna sleep without you either, ever again,” he whispered, leaning over to place a kiss on Eddie’s cheek. He smiled softly as he fell back asleep, Richie drifted off not soon after. 

**Author's Note:**

> a few months ago i decided to revisit this fic, most of which i wrote in summer 2018. i stopped writing around two years ago, but i'm so glad i came back to this one and finished it up, it's one of my favorites. i've been thinking of it as my love letter to the ship, my two favorite boys i'll always love <3
> 
> i have loved writing for this fandom for almost three years now, but this will most likely be my last piece of writing. it’s been a wild ride, and for people who’ve stuck around with me i thank you for giving me so much joy these last few years. i’ll still be here, just not writing anymore. find me on [tumblr](http://www.kaspbrak-eddie.tumblr.com) if you want to chat/say hi :)


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